


Friends, Family and Dreams

by orphan_account



Series: A State of Being Wounded, Hurt Then Healing. [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Canon Compliant, connor flashbacking before he kills himself, everything will be seen from connor's grey tinted lens, there wil be a sort of plot twist in the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "People commit suicide..." His mother trailed off, her eyes sweeping over to the setting sun. "People commit suicide because - because they don't have friends, family, or dreams."Connor looked back at his mother expectantly. She gave him a smile, a smile only to sedate him. Connor bought it of course, he was only a child back then."Connor, promise me that you won't ever, ever think about doing that, okay?""I won't." And Connor shuddered. He had friends, family and dreams. He won't ever kill himself.'And well, too bad promises were made to be broken.' Connor thought as he held with the bottle of pills in his hand.





	1. Prologue

"People commit suicide...." His mother trailed off, her eyes sweeping over to the setting sun. "People commit suicide because - because they don't have friends, family, or dreams."

Connor looked back at his mother expectantly. She gave him a smile, a smile only to sedate him. Connor bought it of course, he was only a child back then.

"Connor, promise me that you won't ever, ever think about doing that, okay?"

"I won't." And Connor shuddered. He had friends, family and dreams. He won't ever kill himself.

_And well, too bad promises were made to be broken._ Connor thought as he held the bottle of pills in his hand.

Connor, well, for Connor, he didn't have friends, family or dreams. He lost that all down the drain.

And well, maybe it was all his fault.

 

 


	2. Friends

Everyone knew about the infamous Ms. G incident back in second grade. Because of that, he _himself_ was infamous.

Well no, even before that he was infamous. He was moody, even as a kid. He was touchy, easy to tease and he would easily break into tantrums. His tantrums were terrifying. He screamed until his voice was hoarse and he cried until he ran out of tears.

Maybe that's why he didn't have many friends.

He played with other kids his age, everyone played with everyone even if they weren't friends. He was a kid, after all. There were moments when he was, well -- _happy._

He had a friend that had to leave school, his name was Jerry. Jerry was one of the people afraid of him at first, but he saw him crying. Crying because he didn't have many friends.

Because, if there was one thing about Connor Murphy, is that he was moody. And Jerry saw that being _happy_ is a mood too. And people thought - if Jerry could be friends with that weirdo, well maybe he isn't that weird?

But Jerry was the only one who can withstand Connor's tantrums. Connor got into kiddie fights and the teachers would have to pull them away.

But he and Jerry got into fights too. Jerry screaming that he should stop being so _mean,_ and Connor screaming that _it's not true, it's not true, it's not -_

So Jerry became his friend until fourth grade, where his father needed to switch jobs. Connor was sad, but he needed to show that he was alright. Even though he wasn't.

Fourth grade is when he first met Evan. He was quiet, really quiet. He would doodle on notebooks and stare out of the window instead of doing things.

And well, Connor thought he got the right idea. He was there, but only physically.

So, he started doing the same thing. Stare out of that window, look at that beautiful blue sky, draw clouds. Until, well, until that's all he did.

Get into his head, fight with the person who tried to get him out of his head, go back to his head.

Maybe it was more complicated than that. Maybe it wasn't.

 _Friends, friends, friends, friends._ Connor plucked out a pill and played with it.

He didn't have any friends after Jerry. Well, if you can call his drug dealers friends. He met them in his junior year. He was at the back of a Seven-Eleven, in a dark, narrow alley. Connor was the opposite of claustrophobic. If there was a thing about being claustrophilic, that's probably him.

And, there were other people with him. It smelled of smoke and something else and Connor _knew_ that this was the thing that those school assemblies warned him about but.

But he couldn't bring it in himself to care. There isn't any way his life could go worse. It was a haze after that. The dealers saw a potential customer and took the opportunity.

Connor wasn't all bad. He remembered vividly the dry mouth and his the unsureness weighing in his heart. He did it anyway. He did it and he remembered how it lightened the load of his buzzing thoughts. How it just made him feel  _calmer_ and he felt like he had less things to worry about. His thoughts were still there, his inhibitions just lessened.

That was it. His life got worse as it went on, but he held on to weed. 

Maybe he  _had_ a friend. Weed.

God, didn't that sound pathetic.

He didn't know why he was reminiscing. It was one of those times when he felt so disconnected, and he'll finally disconnect himself this day. Forever.

But he wants to see how long the cord is before he plugs it out.


End file.
